


New noise

by Greasedungeon



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Cruelty, Gen, Gore, Mental Breakdown, NSFW, Sadism, Torture, UF!Sans, Underfell, reset induced madness, uf!frisk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-11
Updated: 2018-10-11
Packaged: 2019-07-29 05:00:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16257182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Greasedungeon/pseuds/Greasedungeon
Summary: There are no bad children. Only bad surroundings.





	New noise

**Author's Note:**

> I was inspired by a request on my other blog (the ask wasn’t even directed to my content) to write this, but oh well at least I had fun =w= 
> 
> Read the tags, stay safe!

_It’s too silent._

Frisk opened their eyes and peered groggily to the single, barred window of the room. The murky, magical underground light didn’t do much to illuminate the room. The snow storm from last night had calmed down to a steady downfall. It looked like if they wanted to get out of the house, they’d have to use a second floor window. No matter. The house had enough food, for now.

The silence would have to linger for a while longer. Their stomach grumbled.

Frisk got out of the old, run-down race car bed. It had the most decent mattress in the house, not to mention it was the cleanest. Shivering from the cold as their feet hit the icy floor, they bundled up with all the clothes and rags they found, and shuffled out of the room. They peered down the corridor, towards the other room with the closed door.

_Soon. We have time._

Rubbing their eyes and yawning, Frisk went downstairs and made themselves coffee and breakfast from the leftover lasagna in the fridge. Both the fridge and microwave worked, luckily. The electricity should still stay connected for the next couple days. They ate, relishing the warm food and drink that warmed and woke their body up. This routine was nice. They let themselves zone out for a while. To think about the fleeting memories of a time, no, existence? When, where, things had been different.

Trying to set a time or place didn’t really help describe the memories Frisk had, but they didn’t know how to describe it any better. But they knew that these... realities were real, at least to Frisk, and they were so, so very _broken_. They knew, because they were aware of the changes that had happened within the ones they could remember.

They’d tried so hard, in some distant memory. To befriend all the monsters. After so much pain and multiple memories of death. They’d even succeeded, few times. But the existences kept on dispersing. Repeating. Changing.

Without noticing, Frisk had started to change, too.

_The silence is deafening._

Frisk got up, dutifully cleaned the kitchen and grabbed another plate of lasagna before starting to climb up the stairs. Slowly, stretching their limbs with all the time and peace in the world, as if it was a lazy Saturday and they were going back to bed for a morning book session, or maybe a post-breakfast nap.

God, sometimes in their memories they caught a glimpse of a reality, where things had been wonderful, compared to the current situation. The world, even though still underground, felt brighter. The monsters were mostly friendly and it was so easy to gain their trust. They became their friends. They filled Frisk with hope and determination to help and to continue their journey.

It must’ve been a mere dream. It’s better not to dwell on those for too long.

Frisk was so, so _tired_. They learned how to deal with the frequent pain, the loss of the all the progress they’d managed to make with the monsters, the steady progress of increasing madness and violence  as the reality changed and the frustration of starting all over again.

Some things never changed. Frisk called them anchor points.

The same beginning, among flowers splattered with their blood. The pain. They didn’t even remember anymore what came before that point. Why were they there.

The same monsters. Their cruelty and lunacy. The pain. The deaths. How it was always so much effort to first get them to stop attacking, not to mention getting them to even tolerate them.

The same outcome. Somewhere along the timeline, without any recognizable pattern, the existence would tear open in front of their eyes, finally ripping them apart as well, before fading into nothing.

The cold.

The pain.

The same, never ending cycle.

First it had been terrifying, Frisk pondered. Now it was just… boring. Deadly boring. They’d tried everything they humanely could. They stopped seeing the point of trying anything new. All of the horrible memories in their head mixed into an endless mess of jarring cacophony, that, at some point, turned into background noise. Incessant. Uninteresting.

But there was no escaping the situation, either. Dying clearly didn’t help.

So what the hell, why not mess around a bit?

Frisk had gotten to the closed door without noticing. A small smile lifted the corners of their mouth. This was exciting, not quite knowing, what was waiting for them behind the door.

He had always been different. Mysterious. Aloof, in an infuriatingly lazy manner. Sans was intelligent and strong, equipped with a twisted sense of humour. Sure, the skeleton fought him just like the rest, but it felt like he knew about the cycle. He was always hesitant and wouldn’t fight, if he absolutely didn’t have to. He’d avoid Frisk most of the time, after they’d managed to stop the fighting.

They’d found the abandoned laboratory from under the house. It must’ve been somehow related to the cycle, and why was it getting worse. It must’ve! And Sans had the key. He would act oblivious when Frisk asked about it, he’d laugh and mock them when they tried to explain their flashbacks of other realities, but they just _knew_ he was up to something. Or that he’d at least been.

Even if he didn’t remember things in the same capacity as they did, even if the reality changed into a whole new one every time, Frisk would pull some info out of him, one way or another. The knowledge that he might know something but wouldn’t tell them, was downright maddening.

_Enough thinking. Let’s get started._

Frisk turned the door knob.

The dark room was colder than rest of the house. The floor was partially covered with snow, and Frisk had to push the door to get it open because of the blocking snow and frost. Occasional snowflakes billowed through the window they had broken, accompanied by the whistle of wind. Frisk flicked the light switch. They snorted.

Sans was where they had left him, bolted against the wall, naked. His skull had dropped against his clavicle. Some of the snow had gathered into a small pile on his head. Some had even made a half-beard for him! How funny.

Glad that he hadn’t dusted because of the cold, Frisk walked up to Sans. The first experiment was successful. His eye lights weren’t there, so he was somehow zonked out. It was a lot of work, tiring him out and fastening him to the wall. Especially since he was enraged after seeing his brother dust. Frisk was also sad for him, but it was the best way to lure Sans into a reckless fight mode. His golden tooth had fallen off amidst the fight, which was a shame. Frisk had liked it. Also now there was an ugly hole.

It was an interesting discovery. All they’d really done, was realize that the reality was going to change anyways so nothing they did really mattered… and change their Intent. Suddenly getting to their goals was a child’s play. No matter who the monster was, they were no match to a human on a mission. Covering the Ruins and Snowdin in monster dust was enough to proof that.

But Frisk found the remaining silence unpleasant. As if something was missing.

Sans’ wounds had stopped bleeding and had formed bruises. Apparently they hadn’t fed him enough to heal properly. Frisk had found a tool box from the skeleton brothers’ shed with a hammer and long, sturdy nails. They hammered them through Sans’ ulnae and radii, and tibiae and fibulae, whacking the attached nails to the side till they formed a curve against the wall, trapping one of the bones in the formed link. In this position Sans would either have to stand and keep his hands and legs wide apart, or hang unnaturally and painfully from his wrists. Or so Frisk had thought, but he’d managed to somehow lock his knees, allowing him to pass out. Defty bugger! He never ceased to elude them.

Careful of the sharp teeth, Frisk opened his maw and let the plateful of lasagna drop in. Sans roused immediately, jerking weakly and gagging. Frisk held his jaw still, until whatever magic still left in him made him swallow and digest the lasagna. It was enough to spur some energy into him, as his eye lights also appeared. Frisk let go and let him cough and sputter as they crouched down to rummage through the tool box on the floor. After a moment of heaving and tugging, Sans managed to speak.

“f-fuck- you psycho kid, let me go! where’s pa-!”

Sans choked and his eye light shrunk as memories of yesterday rushed back to him. Frisk ignored the following stream of swears and threats as he tried to futilely break out of his restrains, browsing the tool box calmly and letting a small ‘ahaa’-sound, as they pulled out a pair of pliers. Sans shut up, eyeing them and the tool.

“the fuck you doin’ with those.”

“Will you talk?”

“what the **fuck** are you going on about, i’ve told you i’ve no clue what to do you want me to say about your fucking **delusions** -”

“Okay, then choose.”

“... what?”

“Fingers, toes or teeth.”

Sans’ eye lights widened for a moment, and he grimaced. “ ** _fuck you!_ ** ”

Frisk saw Sans’ magic ignite in his eye and weak shapes of bone bullets forming around him. It was unlikely that he’d actually manage to complete them to form a proper attack, but Frisk wasn’t going to take any chances.

They quickly grabbed the hammer from the floor and promptly slammed its flat side against his temple.

With a loud _crack_ his skull tossed to the side and the magic bullets broke down immediately. The old crack on his skull got an additional branch, that was now bleeding marrow and small chips of bone fell off of it, turning into dust. His eye socket was now dangerously loose, barely attached to place. It explained why only his other eye light came back after the shock, hazily at that. The marrow mixed together with the tears that had started flowing.

Tsk. Frisk wanted Sans to be fully awake for this. But those kind of stunts wouldn’t be tolerated. Their voice was laid-back, as if he had played a silly plank on them.

“C’mon Sans, I thought you were smarter than to try that. Do it again and I’ll rip half of your face off. It’d be like cracking a coconut.”

Sans didn’t answer, busy recovering from the damage.

_Oh well. Time for the second experiment._

He hadn’t dusted, confirming Frisks earlier presumptions. Even if Sans had only 1 HP, skeleton bodies are quite sturdy and detached from their souls. Sans’ old scars prove that. They can withstand large changes in temperature and take a lot of damage, especially without the intent to kill.

And here… the right Intent mattered in everything. It was time to see how far that hypothesis went. Frisk grabbed Sans’ hand and placed the pliers on his index fingers distal phalange.

“Will you talk?”

Sans tried to lift his head and pull his hand away feebly, while stammering.

“frisk... please s-stop this… i know we can-”

His sentence turned into a shout, which turned into a scream, as Frisk started to steadily pull on the phalange. As they added more strength while keeping their intent calm and curious, they observed the joint. Maybe they were imagining things, but it looked like thin threads of Sans’ magic were being stretched from the joint pieces, tearing off one by one like fine hairs. His screams and repeating no’s got louder and his desperate trashing got stronger. Finally, the force was enough to tear the phalanx right off. Frisk examined the small piece of bone. It seemed to not turn to dust, at least for now. Maybe he could pluck the whole skeleton into pieces and put him back together like a jigsaw puzzle. How exciting!

Thrilled by the thought, Frisk set the bone onto the closeby table and moved onto the next distal phalange.

“no, frisk, please, no no no okay i’ll talk _i’ll talk please_ **_don’t do this no-_ ** ”

Too late. His chance had passed! This was more fun now. They’d ask again later, maybe when they were running out of things to pull off. A shiver ran through Frisk’s spine, as they started slowly pulling on the phalange and Sans’ shrill screams filled the room again.

This wasn’t only about experimenting anymore. But Frisk knew that already, on some subconscious level at least. They’d known it right after dusting the first monster. It was refreshing how now they weren’t the target of suffering. From now on, they were the one calling the shots.  
  


_Ah. Finally._

 

_The silence is no more._

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Keep ya kids away from the toolbox ya hear
> 
> [NSFL Tumblr](https://greasedungeon.tumblr.com/post/178948006756/new-noise-greasedungeon-undertale-video-game)


End file.
